


Bourbon Shots

by my_muse_compels_me



Category: Celebrities/Real People, Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: F/M, movie director
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_muse_compels_me/pseuds/my_muse_compels_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OFC works as a consultant on the set of a movie Chris Evans is directing.  At a cast/crew party, a group of otherwise reasonable adults decide to play Spin the Bottle.  Interesting times ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Playing a Game

CHAPTER 1: Playing a Game

You've spent the past two months as a voice consultant on the set of the newest movie Chris Evans is directing. It's been a bit surreal, to be sure, but you've tried to treat each day as "just another day at the office." Yeah, right. 

Sometimes you feel like an old fogey at 41, but you try to remind yourself that much of the crew is around your age; it's most of the actors who are so very young. You weren't hired for your age or appearance anyhow. You’re simply very good at what you do.

Anyhow, one of the production staff decided you all needed a "We're almost ready to wrap" party, so here you all are. And here you are, being dragged to an empty corner of the floor (the floor!) of someone's condo to play Spin the Bottle. Really? What made you agree to this? Aren't you waaaay too old for this? Guess that's what one too many shots of bourbon will do. 

It’s your turn. You were just about to spin when He sat down. Chris Evans. Right next to you.

"Holy shit. Spin the bottle? I gotta get in on this." He plunks his beautiful body down onto the floor next to you and elbows you purposely as he lifts his beer to his lips to take a long swig. "I never would have pegged you for playing this game." 

"There's plenty you don't know about me. Plus there has been much bourbon." 

"Ah yes. You do shots like a champ! And I'll have you know that I don't know much about you because you hardly fucking share any personal information. Like ever." Another swig. "Spin." He orders. 

You roll your eyes and spin, feeling him observe you watching the bottle’s journey. He continues to watch as that infernal bottle slows to a stop, pointing straight at Him. Oh. Good. Grief. The other players howl with delight. 

Chris looks at you and smirks. "Well? Lay one on me." He turns to face you. 

"Back up the happy truck there killer. I'm doing the kissing. I set the pace." 

You push his knee with one finger, cueing him to face forward again. You get up on your knees and slide behind him. 

"Uh, my lips are on the front of my head." 

"Yes, Captain Obvious. I have a firm grasp on the placement of human anatomy." 

Chris snickers. You roll your eyes again.

You place your hands gently on his ridiculously broad shoulders and lean over to his right ear. You slowly lick the edge of the outer shell with the tip of your tongue, from top to lobe, then gently bite down and suck. As you pull away, you blow lightly along the trail you licked, then press your lips against the sensitive skin behind his ear. 

You hear a faint "Holy fuck" emerge from between his lips. The circle of players has fallen silent. Satisfied with your turn, you sit back down in your spot next to Chris. As you pass the bottle to him you catch a glimpse of his profile. His eyes are closed and his head is slightly bowed while he appears to be getting his breathing under control. 

"Your turn," You declare with a grin.


	2. Hallway Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game continues. The OFC excuses herself from the circle, but Chris continues to make his presence known.

CHAPTER 2: Hallway Encounter

You hear low muttering from around the circle as you settle back down in your spot. "Wow that was hot." "Did you see the look on his face?" "How the hell are we supposed to follow that?" "Never woulda pegged her for that. Nice." 

Chris spun. The bottle pointed at one of the grips-- a perfectly lovely 40 year old man with a goatee. You snicker.

The game went on for a while. Longer than you expected, actually. You're pretty sure you kissed more women than men, but that’s fine; you're equal opportunity. You don't get to kiss him again, unfortunately.

The whole time, sitting beside him, you can feel the body heat roll off of him, carrying the scent of his subtle cologne to your eager nostrils. You acutely feel, then see his weighty gaze on you during every kiss you exchange with someone else. You feel your cheeks pinken. Those blue-green eyes are nearly your undoing. One moment they are sparkling and full of amusement, the next they pierce your soul with their intensity, and the next they nearly soak your panties with their penetrating sexuality.

Eventually you excuse yourself to the ladies room out of necessity. Not only is nature calling, but sitting on the floor is getting more uncomfortable by the minute, and you had finally grown tired of swapping spit with near-strangers. Why did you agree to this again? 

Emerging from the restroom, lost in thought about your game-opener, you nearly collide with a solid mass of delicious-smelling human. You look up and lock eyes with Chris. Oh my. His pupils dilate and a light swath of pink graces his cheeks, disappearing into his beard. Your heart starts pounding loudly in your chest, and the swirly-twirly feeling of the bourbon returns to the forefront of your brain.

"Excuse me," You murmur as you attempt to slide past him down the hallway. When did it become so aggravatingly narrow? You try to maintain minimal touching of your bodies.

"No." He steps impossibly close to you without physical contact.

"Uh, come again?" You attempt to bypass him, still trying to escape. Holy shit you need another drink.

"No." He sidesteps in tandem with you and extends his arm to stop you, placing his hand on the wall near your shoulder, again without touching you.

"Is something wrong?" You meet his gaze evenly and try to sound relaxed, belying the butterflies starting to let loose in your belly, but your voice hitches on the last word you speak.

He looks away briefly then meets your eyes again with an expression you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s an unexpected, yet undeniably alluring, combination of nervous and sexy mixed with something else you don’t recognize. 

"Can I, uh, speak with you in private?" With a twitch of his head he indicates the room next to the restroom, further down the hall and opposite of the direction you want to go. It appears to be an office, from what you can see through the mostly closed door.

"Um… okay," You reply hesitantly. Chris blinks slowly and smiles as you look up at him from under your eyelashes. His gaze turns sultry as he motions for you to move first. As you turn toward the room, your shoulder grazes his chest. You both jump slightly at the contact. You can smell his cologne again; it’s subtle with an earthy base and topnotes of musk and masculinity. You have to take a couple seconds to gather yourself. At that moment, you notice Chris' other hand holding a bottle of the top-shelf bourbon you had been drinking previously. Fabulous! Now you can get another shot.


	3. A Proper Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens behind closed doors.

CHAPTER 3: A Proper Kiss

You enter the room in front of him, hear him follow, and then listen to the door click shut behind you. You spin around to look at Chris but before you can finish turning he steps into your space and looks at you with an intensity that surprises you. You can’t tell if he is upset or aroused. Maybe a bit of both?

“What the fuck was that out there?”

“What was what?”

“That stunt you pulled out in the living room.”

“I was playing the game, Chris. There was no ‘stunt’.” You make air quotes. “What’s the big deal?” Against your better judgment, you start to get defensive.

“No woman has left me speechless like that. Ever. Seriously— ever.”

“Well, um, good for me then? Look Chris, I don’t get why you brought me in here just now.” 

You rapidly become anxious, intermittently looking at the door. Unfortunately, Chris stood between you and your goal. A swig of that bourbon would be great right about now. You watch him set the bottle down onto the desk.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous.” He reaches out to touch your arm. You pull it away, standing your ground, but look away.

“I need to go sober up so I can head home. Excuse me.” You head toward the door, but he stops you.

“Again Chris? Really? What the fuck do you want?”

He takes an audible breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want you to kiss me properly.” He smirks ever so slightly.

You’re visibly taken aback. “We’re not playing that ridiculous game anymore.”

“I know.” His voice is deeper all of a sudden.

"Look," You begin, "I'm not the kind of woman who will magically fall at your feet, captivated by your good looks and charm, with legs open and panties evaporated."

"You have evaporating panties?" Chris tries to stifle a snicker.

"Shut up! I'm being serious. You're probably used to women falling all over themselves to have a shot at you, but I'm not like that. I mean-- that's not to say-- aw shit-- you are unfairly attractive in a thoroughly approachable way, you know."

Chris quirked an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

You continue as though he hadn't even spoken. “And I work for you. It wouldn’t be appropriate." You start flailing your arms in a panic. "It’s bad enough I did-- that-- back there. In front of everybody! Holy crap. I don’t want to lose my job or ruin my reputation!”

“Let’s clear something up. You work with me. You work for the producer. Actually—you work for your contract agency, if I’m not mistaken. And you won’t ruin anything. This is just between us.”

He reaches out to touch your arm again; this time you don’t try very hard to pull away. "You're still nervous." A statement rather than a question. 

"Maybe."

Chris runs his fingers gently up your arm to your neck and into your hair. His other hand grasps your waist and pulls your body against his, with only a little resistance from you. His hands loosen their grip slightly. You feel his thumb start to trace lazy circles on the small of your back. "Why?" His voice rumbles up from his chest and resonates in your ear where his mouth is entirely too close. 

"I told you already. And I feel like I'm in over my head." 

"Wellllll.... you are kinda short," he jokes, smirking against your hair. 

You smack him in the chest, "Hey!" protesting with mild indignance.

He pulls his body away from yours slightly to scan the room, then moves the both of you to a comfortable-looking chair. He sits down, never letting go of you, and bring your body down to sit on his left thigh.

The slight stiffening of your back coupled with the flicker of your gaze toward the door does not go unnoticed. Chris puts one finger against the left side of your chin and gently turns your head to face him. 

"Do I really make you that anxious?" he asks quietly.

You sigh and shake your head slightly. "Sort of."

Chris releases a deep chuckle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I might be more anxious than you are right now."

You tilt your head slightly and study him carefully. Only then do you notice the small beads of sweat that had formed along his hairline, the subtle worry lines etched into his forehead, and That Look in his eyes. It’s an expression of worry that things might go terribly wrong at a moment’s notice. It’s a Look you know well, because it’s mirrored in your own eyes.

You raise your right hand to his left shoulder to anchor yourself, then tentatively place your left palm near the center of his chest. He sucks in an audible breath, his eyes never leaving yours. You can feel his heart beat a rapid staccato rhythm, the final piece of damning evidence.

You close your eyes and swallow, then reach for his right hand where it clings to your hip and rest its palm over your own pounding heart. Your eyes meet his, pupils blown.

"I believe you," you whisper, as you lean in to gently press your lips against his.


	4. Just Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Chris heat things up further, then come to a mutual understanding.

CHAPTER 4: Just Between Us

You feel Chris return your tender kiss, moving his mouth against yours and caressing your cheek sweetly with his warm hand. The energy is palpable between the two of you. You lean into his body, running your hands through his hair. As you start to feel more comfortable on his lap, you turn up the intensity by pressing into his body a little more firmly. The beginnings of his erection nudge your thigh.

You pull away, eyes wide.

“We need to stop now,” you say as you break eye contact and move to rise from his lap.

Chris looks surprised and a bit hurt. His lips are reddened from the kiss; you suppose yours are as well.

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“This can’t go any further. You got your ‘proper kiss’,” you make air quotes for that last bit, “Now we need to get back to the party and the rest of our real lives.”

“What? No…. Please? Come back here.” He grabs your hand and attempts to pull you back onto his lap.

You try to reclaim your hand from his, “We can’t do this. Remember? We work together.”

“That really doesn’t matter all that much. Besides, our working together is just temporary.”

“All the more reason not to get involved. I didn’t take this assignment in the hopes of hooking up with some hotshot Hollywood star.” Finally your hand is free after one last pull. You might not have been trying all that hard, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Who’s accusing you of taking this job to hook up? What the fuck is your problem?”

“Nobody is accusing me of anything that I know of. I just don’t want to give that impression, even in the slightest.”

“Duly noted.” He reaches out and takes your hand again, gently, this time lacing his fingers with yours. “I would really like to keep kissing you. I know I enjoyed it, and I’m pretty sure you did too.” He strokes the palm of your hand with his thumb. “This is nobody else’s business but ours. It’s just between us,” he whispers as he starts to pull you closer. 

You feel the magnetism of his entire persona, luring you into his personal space and clouding your mind with thoughts of those hands on your body and those lips on your mouth. You start to wonder how they would feel pressed against your neck… your collarbone… your…

Chris drops your hand and wraps that arm all the way around you until it reaches your opposite hip. How are his arms that long? You find yourself seated across his muscular thighs once again. His other hand reaches up to touch your face, his elegant fingers tracing over your eyebrow and down your cheek until they rest along the place your jaw meets your neck. He pulls your face to his for an impossibly gentle kiss, his lips barely brushing yours. 

You feel his arm tighten around your torso; his hand at your neck grasps just a bit harder as he instigates firmer contact. Your lips part when his nudge yours, his tongue tentatively seeking entrance to your mouth. The room suddenly feels several degrees warmer. 

Your palms have been resting lightly against his chest, ready to protectively push yourself away at a moment’s notice, yet you find them gliding over his firm pectorals toward his broad shoulders, drawing you further into his aura. You bring your hands around to the back of his neck and card your fingers through his hair. Chris groans quietly into your mouth then whispers your name against your lips as he reluctantly breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours.

“Have dinner with me,” he murmurs.

“Chris…”

“Please. When your contract is complete. Or when the movie wraps. Whichever comes sooner.” He pulls away slightly and looks up at you with those damned puppy dog eyes.

You sigh and bite your lower lip. “That’s nearly three weeks from now.”

He furrows his eyebrows, then smiles hopefully at you. “Maybe lunch sometime in between? A business lunch? I’m sure I need to meet with you about something.”

You feel yourself starting to relent, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Holy geez, Evans. Do you always get what you want with that ridiculously adorable face?”

“Heh. Not always, but a lot of the time. So…. I’m adorable, hmm?”

“Don’t push your luck, Evans.” You poke an index finger into the center of his chest.

“Ok, ok. I'll wait three weeks to have dinner with you, and I’ll contact you this coming week about a working lunch.”

You nod.

“In the meantime,” he gives you a sly glance and motions toward the bottle he set on the desk earlier, “How about another shot of that bourbon?”


End file.
